Never Steal a TimeTurner
by TheLittleFreak
Summary: Ron takes a trip on the wild side, and it gets wilder than he wants-about 30 or 40 years wilder. It will explain a lot, and it puts Ron in an uncomfortable (for him, hilarious for us) position. Read and review, and I'll review yours!
1. bad ronnie

Ronald Weasley was up to something.  
  
Any half-wit could tell-he looked no one in the eye, he walked way too quickly (so he kept tripping over his own cloak), and his ears were as red as his carroty mop-top. However, no one really cared. Ron wasn't the one in his family to be reckoned with- that was Fred and George. Or so they thought.  
  
He flew around the corner and breathlessly muttered the password. The Fat Lady peered reproachfully at the small bulge in his cloak. Then she got her face smashed into the wall as Ron swung her open and scrambled inside the hole, growling, "Don't look at me like that!" He moved very slowly after that, inches at a time, and he jumped at the slightest noise. Finally, he got close enough to slump down into a squashy chair by the fire, and felt safe enough to take a peep at his stolen prize.  
  
It was a pendant.  
  
A measly pendant.  
  
Ron was outraged-and a little ashamed. He had gone through all bloody THAT- sneaking up on Hermione Granger (it was almost impossible-he tried several times), practicing for weeks to perfect a Hovering spell quiet enough to get something out of her bag, managing to grab it before she noticed it, and writing several excuses for any occasion to use for an escape-to lift a tiny piece of JEWELERY!?!?!?!?!? Fred and George-not to mention Lee, who had made him take the dare-were gonna take the mickey out on him for weeks! Then he took a closer look.  
  
It was actually rather a fascinating little thing. The thin silver chain led to a single hourglass-shaped bauble at the end, with no visible clasp or loops anywhere. The trinket dangled quite freely with golden settings holding the glass. The sand inside was rather odd-it never stayed the same color-yellow, then green, orange, blue, red, and every other color under the sun. It made him a little nervous, like the tiny charm was alive and knew who he was. "Hey, this is pretty cool," he muttered under his breath. "Why would Hermione have something like this in her bag-she's not one for jewelry.hey, maybe it's magic. Yeah, magic! It could be what helps her be so smart!" He nervously glanced around, then slipped the chain over his freckled face and down on his neck.  
  
"Well, maybe she won't notice it's gone. It's so small," he reasoned. "I'll not keep it forever-she'll get it back soon. It's not like I'm keeping it forever, and I'll need it for my exams so much more than she does. You can't really study on a broken leg." his voice died. Yep, that would be a good excuse. So why am I still so nervous? Maybe I'm not nervous- the funny feeling in my stomach is probably just gas.  
  
Once again, the hourglass caught his eye. He started to finger it curiously- what does an hourglass have to do with being smart anyway? He figured that if he turned it on, he'd be smart enough to know, but there was no button or spell on it. He examined every inch, just to be sure, then even tried tapping it wit his wand. No good. Frustrated, he gave up for now and leaned back, pouting. When he had gotten THAT out of his system, he pulled the necklace level with his eyes to admire it some more. To catch the light, he slid off the chair, lay in front of the fire, and spun it with his fingers. The hourglass spun and spun and spun, and Ron kept staring at the gleaming gold and the wildly shifting colors, until he couldn't help it-his eyes closed, and Ron Weasley was snoring on the carpet. 


	2. rip van ronnie

*Oooooohh...my head...*  
  
Ronald Weasley sat up—slowly at first, then all the way as he realized he was still on the floor. Lazily, he stretched(sleeping on the floor will make you very stiff) and scratched his back as he yawned and opened his eyes.  
  
Then he froze. And stared around him for several minutes.  
  
Because the Gryffindor common room as he knew it was gone. The deep red walls were still there, but the hardwood floors and red rugs had been replaced with a thick, deep gold shag carpet. Ron's favorite armchair—as well as all the others—weren't there either. Instead, there were huge, squashy things just laying around. The desks that students would use had been replaced with some extremely bright plastic tables, each of which had a lava lamp on it that kept changing colors every three seconds.  
  
It wasn't really a bad effect overall, but still, Ron was pretty freaked out. He had not been moved at all while sleeping—so how had the carpet gotten there? Finally, after maybe three minutes, he figured that it was just some kind of magic and stood up.  
  
His stomach grumbled loudly. "Yeah, yeah, pipe down, we're going to the Great Hall anyways." And he walked out into hallways in that direction to prove his point. The Fat Lady screeching that she had never seen him before ("Hey, who are you? And how did you get in there? I didn't let you in...COME BACK HERE, RUFFIAN! TELL ME HOW YOU GOT INTO MY TOWER!!!!!!!!") unnerved him a little, but Ron, being Ron, just ignored it.  
  
But then he walked through the door. And he couldn't ignore the Great Hall. The ceiling was no longer a reflection of the sky; instead, there was a huge tye-dye swirl moving around above the students. He couldn't see Harry or Hermione anywhere—as a matter of fact, he couldn't recognize anybody. No, scratch that: he could see Dumbledore sitting at the Head Table, chatting animatedly to the strange witch next to him.  
  
"..."  
  
Ron was baffled, and no wonder. Dumbledore was a lot younger than as he knew him, with his long, sweeping hair and beard a light auburn. But that wasn't the worst of it—he was wearing robes that were changing from red to green to purple to orange; his half moon glasses were now pink-tinted.  
  
Yep. Albus Dumbledore was a hippie.  
  
Ron's mouth dropped open. He stared, and finally, he had had enough of the weirdness going on around him.  
  
"WHAT IN THE WORLD IS GOING ON!?!?!?!?" The Great Hall fell silent at the huge roar that came out of Ron's mouth. Now they stared, and he stared back. They all just stood there, staring, for quite a while, then a red headed student stood.  
  
"Hey, look, man, no need to yell...We're just having an excellent feast before the school years really begins to get going.."  
  
Now, what ever Ron was expecting to hear, this wasn't it. "Beginning of the year? But..."  
  
A plump witch sitting next to the redhead raised her goblet. "Yeah, man, the beginning. I love beginnings, don't you? As a matter of fact...Here's to Hogwarts 1973!"  
  
All those students imitated the witch, now oblivious to Ron gaping, leaning on the doorway to the Great Hall in shock.  
  
*HOGWARTS 1973?!?*  
  
Heyall, it's Starhawk9. Sorry the next chappies are so late-my evil master, the Plot Bunny, caused a computer glitch to eliminate all my nicely- finished work, so I had to write it all over again  
  
Plot Bunny—nonsense, you deserved to lose those chapters. They were terrible. NOW STOP TALKING AND GET TO WORK!!!!!!!!  
  
Starhawk9—yes, sir *whimpers as the chains chafe her wrists when she types* *in a whisper* save me, please... 


	3. ronnie's 'rents

Ron promptly passed out.

When he came to, a student was standing over him, looking extremely worried.

"Hey. Dude. You all right?"

"uuhhhh…yeah, Harry,  I guess I'm ok. You wouldn't believe the drea…" he stopped as his eyes slid up towards the boy's head.

He had red hair.

"Harry? Who's Harry?" the unknown redhead looked confused. "My name is Arthur."

"Arthur?"

"Yeah. Arthur Weasley."

Ron passed out again.

When he revived in the strange new—or old, he could never figure out how to think of it—common room, there was something soft and cool on his forehead. He pulled it off—a washcloth. He remembered how his mum would do that when he didn't feel well.

_His mum. _ He jerked back up into a sitting position and saw the plump witch that was sitting next to that redheaded kid—HIS FATHER.

"Wha—" he seemed to be having some trouble finding his voice.

"Don't worry. You're all right, you just took a nasty fall." She certainly sounded like his mother, only younger. "Y'know, I've never seen you around Hogwarts before. And you're _certainly _not a first year," She was looking at him with WAY too much interest now. "So…who are you?"

Ron gaped. Was his own mother HITTING ON HIM?!?

"Er—uh—yeah. Thanks. Where's that guy?" He looked around, thinking he might still be there. He wasn't—thank God—but he recognized his robes, wadded up in a corner.

"WAIT. Why are my clothes over there?" He looked down at himself. "And whose pajamas are these?"

 "Oh, don' worry, Arthur did that. I didn' _look_…" she giggled a little. "by the way, my name's Molly…" she giggled some more.

Ron barely refrained from cringing at the thought that just popped into his brain. "Can I have my clothes back? Then, could you leave?"

She kindly did so, but not without a final glance at him as she left the room.

Ron muttered to himself as he quickly put his robes back on.

"Ok, Ron, you've woken up in the 70's, you don't know how you got here, and you're mum's giggling around you like a love-struck idiot. Now, HOW IN THE WORLD COULD THIS HAVE HAPPENED????? WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS?????? Yeah, I stole that little necklace-thing from Hermione last night, bu—"

He froze, halfway through putting on his socks.

_THE NECKALCE-THING._

He started frantically rifling through the rest of his clothes and in his pockets, looking for it.

"No, no, no…I can't believe of all things, I stole a TIME TRAVEL DEVICE!!!! Where is it, where is it…" his fingers poked through a hole in his robe pocket.

"It's  not here!"

He stood, knocking over the bedside table, and started searching every nook and cranny in the room. He could hear his mum call from behind the door, "You all right? Do I need to come in there?", but he really wasn't listening.

After about 20 minutes he stood, panting heavily.

The necklace was no longer in the room. He had no clue as to where it could be, in a castle the size of a small town.

He was stuck.

a.n for any smarties out there, think Michael J. Fox, and you might find my inspiration for this piece. If not, I'll tell you next chapter, providing you read it. PLEASE READ IT…(begs)


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